


Club 404

by Zakatami



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Clubbing, Hangover, M/M, Modern Fantasy, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Frustration, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29168796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zakatami/pseuds/Zakatami
Summary: Dream is a lonely and tired college student. George, Bad and Skeppy all work at a club named 404 that's well known and popular on Dream's campus.--Sap punched Dream's arm in disbelief, but when he didn't falter, Sap understood without needing a word from his best bud. Dream received a few pats on the back mixed with light heckling and suggestions of good spots downtown "on your route if you were to change your mind, if ya know what I mean?" The memory of Sap's hinting elbow in his side made Dream chuckle to himself.Like as if I'd want to go to a club. Dream thought with a scoff
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 79





	1. Not Found

**Author's Note:**

> This started as something very self indulgent and I may continue if there's some further interest. 
> 
> The rating may be bumped up to mature if I continue. Currently, this is purely a oneshot and definitely not beta'd so hopefully there's no glaring mistakes.
> 
> Gogy's outfit is solely inspired by my entry to a DTIYS by @/toastyynotfound on twt.  
> \--  
> Art for this fic and update information will be posted to zakatami.tumblr.com

Brisk evening air welcomed Dream as he left his house for a quick jog downtown. After double and triple-checking that his door was firmly locked and shuffling his Spotify playlist, he was ready to start along his usual route. With his favorite tunes in his ears, and cold air tingling his skin, he felt a wave of relief and let out a puff of air, creating a cloud in front of him. 

Usually, a jog was just nothing more than a little daily exercise between classes and streams. But, today was Friday, and the taste of freedom lingered on his tongue _._ Today, a jog was a physical release from the extraneous mental exhaustion that was college finals week. 

Dream had miraculously studied for five exams, finished his projects on time, cooked himself breakfast, lunch, AND dinner all without a complete breakdown. But that's all he was able to do - Wake, eat, study, eat, sleep, repeat. No time was left for jogging or free time, and by Wednesday, his legs were jittery and ached from being locked up for too long. 

So, despite the ever so tempting invite to a party from Sapnap - a promise of free booze, good music, and even greater company - he begrudgingly turned his would-be-very disappointed friend down and opted for a jog. 

Sap punched Dream's arm in disbelief, but when he didn't falter, Sap understood without needing a word from his best bud. Dream received a few pats on the back mixed with light heckling and suggestions of good spots downtown "on your route if you were to change your mind if ya know what I mean?" The memory of Sap's hinting elbow in his side made Dream chuckle to himself. 

_Like as if I'd want to go to a club._ Dream thought with a scoff.

Dream gagged internally at the thought of Sap and his friends going to clubs just to _mingle_ as they'd say. But his immediate disdain for clubs didn't keep his curiosity in check when he was looking up their locations before he left. They couldn't _actually_ be on his route, as this was the usual route that he'd stride down daily for a whole school year, _surely_ he would have seen them. 

He groaned and ran his fingers frustratingly through his hair when Google Maps proved him wrong. How Sap knew his route better than himself was far beyond his comprehension. 

And thinking further into it just meant accepting the fact that Sap knew the precise locations of far too many clubs. 

Dream just shook his head, flinging that thought into the air. 

Despite that, Dream shoved their names and locations to the back of his brain where they would sit and most likely fizzle away. He opted for a _jog_ over partying during the most optimal college party time of the year, why would he have _any_ desire to dance in a loud club with sweaty strangers? He wouldn't, that’s just a fact. 

Before he knew it, his jog was about halfway over when he had to come to a stop for a quick breather. Sweat lined his forehead which he wiped away with his arm.

Taking a week off jogging really shouldn't make this much of a difference - his route was fine-tuned to allow him to make it the whole way without breaks - but here he was, leaning against cold bricks to catch his breath. 

He was thankful for the evening air that cooled his damp skin. What he wasn't thankful for, was his past self forgetting the water bottle sitting on the ground of his foyer. A quiet curse left him in a huff and he took a deep breath trying to steady his breathing. 

Loud clamoring voices - loud enough to be heard over the music directly in his ears - echoed from behind, alerting him to the events around him. 

Downtown was bustling. This was no surprise, he could make out various groups of people all sporting different college logos. This was a college town after all, of course, there would be numerous young adults sprawling across the concrete looking for fun and relief. Most were already drunk, high off the adrenaline of their barhopping adventures they're sure to regret in the morning. 

Dream was about to pick up his feet to continue his jog, but as he turned his head away from the crowds of people, a bright neon sign caught his attention. In large, bold, curled numbers, it read _**404**_. 

Huh. He questioned, again, how he never noticed the sign before and gave another huff. _404_ was one of the clubs that Sap listed and that Dream honestly thought he misheard him. 

_"Nah man, you heard me right. 404 is THE most lit place I've been to. Clean. colorful. rocking music. drinks that'll get you absolutely hammered and best of all… the_ _hottest_ _chicks!"_

Dream grimaced recalling the tone of Sap's voice and the hourglass motion he gave with his hands during that last _'perk'._

His gaze left the sign and dropped down to the black cladded bouncer who seemed to be staring directly at him from across the street. Dream whipped his head away in embarrassment, quickly realizing that he had been standing there staring like an idiot. 

He should've just left by now, continued on his way, with his breathing back to normal, there was no reason for him to just be _standing_ here in front of this _stupid_ club. But curiosity rooted him to the ground and his dry throat cried in protest as he swallowed. 

"I'm going to murder Sap." Dream cursed under his breath, yanking his earbuds out and shoving them in his pocket while pointedly crossing the street towards the place he so desperately didn't want to be. 

_it's just for a drink of water. Go in, drink, get out. That's all._

The bouncer's position shifted almost defensively which made Dream realize he was practically power walking towards the club with a determined expression. He was tall and fit so his demeanor, I'm sure to anyone, would be at least mildly alarming. Dream sighed, slowed his pace, and relaxed despite his trembling hands, which he shoved into his pockets. The bouncer seemed to mimic his release of tension, but Dream could tell that he was still on edge. 

"I.D.?" A deep, stern voice came from broad shoulders looming over him. Dream wasn't small, but this bouncer was _huge_ up close, not helping his nerves _at all_. He made a point not to look up at the bouncer's face as he pulled out his identification and handed it over. He couldn't face the nerves bubbling up in his gut from a mixture of curiosity, fear, and shame. 

His I.D. appeared back in front of him which he gently took from the bouncer's hand and slid it into his pockets. The red velvet rope was lifted and Dream was granted access. Access through the large black door that kept loud music with thumping bass from spilling outside and into an environment that Dream had never really stepped foot in before. Nervous couldn't begin to describe how he felt. 

"You can go in the door now." Dream made a noise of surprise at the bouncer's sudden impatient tone. He quickly reached for the door, the loud music blaring in his ears as he crossed the threshold of the doorframe. He let go, and the loud bang from the door slamming behind him sent a jolt through his body. 

Dream looked around for his goal, peeling his eyes away from any distractions, and finally moved from the doorway when he spotted the neon-lit drink bar towards the back of the room. Thankfully, the large open room wasn't completely packed and he moved to the bar with ease. He decided to sit on the very inviting looking barstool, taking the weight off of his pleading legs.

Seriously, a week _really_ shouldn't make this big of a difference. Dream rubbed his thighs idly, watching the reflection of flashing lights in the polished bar top. 

Only a minute or so passed before the bartender, dressed in a black and red uniform, smoothly walked over in front of Dream. 

"So, what can I get ya?" He chimed pleasantly. Dream looked up, noting the red circle lined with white and _404_ written in the middle on his uniform top, and briefly met the bartender's piercing white gaze. Dream’s eyes darted up and down to study the bartender’s face. Stark black horns pointing up with a gentle curve were nestled in short fluffy hair as dark as his skin and sharp fangs were backlit by a smiling mouth as white as his eyes. He watched the bartender lull his head to one side before remembering that he was asked a question. 

"Uh," Dream cleared his throat, "just a water, please." To Dream's surprise, his request wasn't met with a weird face or a sigh of annoyance and instead a pleasant and cheerful hum followed by "one H-2-O coming right up!" The bartender's cheerful attitude helped his nerves and Dream relaxed his shoulders with an exhale. Curiously, he turned to his surroundings as he waited for his water.

Sap was right, the place _was_ clean and colorful. The whole room was lit in shades of bright pinks and purples complimenting the pale modern decorations lining the walls and edges of the room. The center was dedicated to a polished wooden dance floor with a giant disco ball turning slowly above that sprinkled every surface with glittering light. A DJ table flanked the dance floor that had a replica of the neon sign from outside attached to the front. The DJ was young, about his age, with tall fluffy dark hair and wearing a bright blue sweater that complemented his tan skin. 

Despite not ever-changing in volume, the music fell to a comfortable noise in Dream's ears as he settled a little more into his seat. 

"Here ya go!" A glass full of ice-cold water suddenly appeared with the Bartender beaming a smile at him. Dream quickly downed the whole glass, the cold liquid sending a pleasant chill down his throat and into his stomach. He dropped his hand back down to the bartop, clanking the glass with a little more force than intended. 

"Oh fuck I -" Dream exhaled and in the same beat he heard a "language!" from the same man who brought the drink. 

Dream looked up with a furrowed brow, surprise that he'd get scolded at a _club_ for cursing. 

A beat and "Oh, I'm just messin' with ya!" The bartender chuckled and took Dream's now empty water cup and refilled it. "Thirsty weren't we?" The cup returned to its spot in front of him. "The name's Bad, it's a pleasure to serve you today." 

Dream _stared_ still in disbelief. 

"Awh, what's a matter? Cat got your tongue?" Bad teased playfully with a smile. 

Dream blinked and cleared his throat again, "sorry, I'm just…" he really wasn't sure of what to say and settled on "... I was on a jog and forgot my water bottle at home," he gestured over his shoulder with a pointed thumb as though that would tell Bad which direction his home was "and happen to stumble in here." He finished with a forced laugh. 

Bad blinked and tilted his head to the side just a smidge "what a weird place to just _stumble_ into." He chuckled lightly again. "First time here I presume?" 

"Uh, yeah." A weird place? Isn't this just like any other club? Dream questioned to himself, looking over his shoulder. "What do you mean that this is a weird place _to just stumble into_?" Dream turned back around to Bad idly running a rag over the bar. He giggled. Like full on giggled and then burst into a small fit of laughter. Dream quirked an eyebrow. "What? did I say something weird?" 

"No, nonono, no," Bad giggled a bit between his stream of 'nos' catching his breath "it's just that, most people who _stumble_ in here," bad was just teasing Dream at this point with that word "know what they're getting into." When Dream didn't reply with anything but a furrowed brow, Bad continued, "most people _plan_ to come to 404. They come here not only for the amazing vibes but also for our _special_ services."

"Special services?" Dream blurted, shifting in his seat. Sapnap never said anything about _special services._

Bad just pointed with a clawed finger to a large sign hanging on the wall behind the bar. He watched Dream's quizzical expression shift as he read the sign and flick through emotions - disbelief, confusion - before settling on shock. Dream's face had turned all shades of red and he forcefully stood from his seat, nearly knocking over his half-empty water glass.

"I think-" Dream started and Bad reflexively caught the glass with his tail and set it back safely with a sigh. "I think I should leave now." Dream announced loud enough to be heard over the music by the nearby patrons. 

The ones sitting at the bar shifted uncomfortably, staring at Dream. 

"Woah-ho there," Bad reached out to Dream with his palms forward. "It's okay, calm down there big guy," he said quickly, but reassuringly. His bartending experience coming in handy to calm patrons. "Why don't we sit back down, as a customer, you're not required to _utilize_ all of these services y'know." 

The other bar patrons had lost interest and returned to their own business. 

The heat in Dream's face was searing with embarrassment. He didn't know what it was about being here that made him act so flighty, but he didn't like it. He wanted to leave, go back home and maybe take a shower to wash the filth he felt reading the sign alone. All he wanted was a glass of water, and he got it, so he should just leave. follow the plan. 

but he found himself slowly sitting back down and bringing his glass to his face to take another drink. 

"There, all good now?" Bad relaxed when Dream sat back down. Silence fell between them as Dream stared into his cup, fighting with his own thoughts. 

"Would you like anything else?" The question came both habitually and in hopes of comfort. Bad was worried for the young man sitting at his bar. When he was met with more silence, he sighed and started walking down the bar. "I'll be back soon, call me over if you need anything." He looked back briefly, receiving a thumbs up from Dream, relaxing at the small gesture. He turned to return to the other patrons. 

_Am I really acting so weird?_

Dream swirled his cup, watching the ice float around in his glass. He wasn't sure why Bad felt the need to take care of him so closely, he was just a normal customer. 

_But I'm not._

of course, he wasn't just a normal customer because he never intended on being here in the first place. 

He rested his forehead in his palm, feeling a slight ache. He wanted to blame the music, wanted to blame his surroundings, but he knew it was from the sudden rush of conflicting thoughts and emotions swirling in his brain. He rubbed his temples and ran a comforting hand over his scalp, reminding him that his long wavy hair was in a tight ponytail. Pulling out the tie let his blonde locks fall and comfortably frame his face. He felt relief at the immediate warmth around his ears. Releasing the tension of his ponytail seemed to help the ache in his temple too. 

Dream spent a moment running a calming hand through his hair and stared into the hypnotizing bartop mulling over his thoughts.

Curiosity quickly ruled over all of his other thoughts, yet again, and begged to know more about these _special services._

Based on the sign, there should be 'entertainers' dotted throughout the club, ready to serve anyone and everyone. Several rules seem to be laid out for the safety of both the entertainers and patrons. 

Dream had no interest in having to follow these rules, as he had no intention of interacting with any of these strangers, especially not _like that_. But he wanted to see it with his own eyes. He lifted his head, quickly checking to see that Bad was still tending others before turning his attention to the center of the room. 

During his second observation of the dance floor, actually seeing the people this time, he counted ten, no twelve, people all wearing very similar outfits that were adorned with varying patches that had _404_ scrawled on them. A few were identical to the plain one Bad had on his uniform, but most of them were decorated or bejeweled. He concluded that they were the entertainers. 

Dream watched as many of the entertainers were dancing seductively with drooling patrons that couldn't keep their hands off, some were on the benches lining the walls sucking face with assumed to be strangers and a stray few who seemed to be wandering from patron to patron, like a lion on prowl for their prey. Dream could see green bills slip into skirt hems and cleavage. He grimaced. 

Sap wasn't completely wrong, they were all objectively attractive, but Dream didn’t feel any further desire or interest. In fact, the longer he watched, the more he wanted to look away and leave. He thought maybe after seeing them that he would feel at least some pull to indulge in something he’s never done before, but none of them could keep his attention. 

Dream turned back around to face the bar again with a sigh. 

“Why the long face?” Bad had returned, his tail flicking curiously. 

Dream blinked. Was he making a face?

“I saw that you were looking at the dancefloor. No one catch your eye?” Bad pressed. 

He felt the familiar tinge of disappointment poke at his lonely heart. 

“When I looked over, I was surprised to see that you were even here at all. I thought you only wanted water.” 

“I did.” Dream finally willed his words out.

“So…?” Bad leaned forward, propping himself up with his elbows and resting his chin in his hands. Dream watched Bad’s tail flick from side to side. 

“Why does it matter?” Dream’s mouth felt dry. 

“So, you’ve been here for thirty minutes, drank two waters, nearly knocked one over,” Bad heard Dream mumble sorry under his breath, and chuckled before continuing “and you’re _still_ here. But now you're looking disappointed.” Bad used his tail to grab the nearby water pitcher and refilled the cup between them. “Why is that?” 

He swallowed. Somehow Bad was able to read him like an open book. Why _did_ he feel disappointed? In reality, he should be happy that there was nothing of interest on the floor. All the reason for him to leave and go back to his spacey comfortable home. 

Alone.

Dream curled his fingers firmly around his glass. He didn’t want to admit that he was lonely. Didn’t want to admit that there was a small glimmer of hope that maybe someone here would be able to ease that loneliness. He didn’t have to come here and feel lonely, he could have been at a party with his best friend and colleagues. He remembered how that’s not true, and how he would still feel disappointment in the midst of celebration with his friends. 

He could feel Bad’s eyes bore holes into his scalp.

“I-” Dream opened his mouth, tempted to confess his loneliness out of the blue, but caught himself. He started again, “Yeah, no one here is my type.” he stated flatly. That wasn’t a complete lie, but he could see that Bad wasn’t thoroughly convinced. “I really should just go.” A sour taste on his tongue. 

Dream turned and stepped from the barstool before Bad could retort or press further. He slipped a bill in Bad’s tip jar and tuned out anything Bad had to say about it as he made his way to the exit. 

He couldn't help but feel a bit of relief as he approached the black door knowing he was just moments away from continuing his jog and dealing with his thoughts in the comfort of his own home instead of in front of an inquisitive bartender. 

He was pulling his tangled headphones out of his pocket when he was just a foot away from the door and right as he was about to reach for the handle, the door flung open nearly whacking him in the face. Thankfully, he was able to reflexively move backwards before ending up with a black eye and he opened his mouth to loudly curse at whoever was thoughtless enough to open a door of that size with that much force, but his words fell silent when his eyes landed on a short brown-haired male in front of him. 

The man that barreled his way through the club’s door was able to stop himself before running directly into Dream’s midsection. He was just inches away from Dream, his arms curled into himself and staring up with sheepish blue eyes, his chest - clearly visible through a black, skin-tight, v-neck crop top - rising and falling quickly as he took deep shaken breaths. Dream figured he was running, his thoughts coming to a conclusion to try and distract him from the expanse of creamy skin. Blue eyes disappeared behind fluttering eyelashes and darted away from Dream’s observant gaze. 

The door slammed and they both jolted. Dream swore he heard a small yelp.

“I - uh, sorry but,” he took a step back, and shifted uncomfortably, “I need to get through…” 

His soft voice was barely audible over the loud music and Dream about queried before realizing he was taking up the whole entrance way and quickly moved out of the smaller man’s way. Dream blurted out a hushed apology and watched as ducked away in a hurry. 

It wasn’t until Dream was watching him cross the open room that he noticed a familiar outfit. His black crop top contrasted nicely with the pale skin at the small of his back which led to a silky red skirt with golden trim. The skirt hugged his hips and accented his slim figure. Dream watched the skirt bounce lightly, leading his eyes downwards to the black lace wrapping around his thin upper thighs. The lace topped thin, sheer stockings with a sheen of pink from the lighting in the club. 

Dream felt his face heating up and had to tear his eyes away, unsure of how long he was staring, and unsure if he was noticed. He peeked over his shoulder when he opened the door to leave and was met with brilliant blue eyes, telling him that he was definitely noticed. His blush crept over his whole face and he ducked out of the club as quickly as he could. 

Somehow, one cute boy in a skirt and stockings intrigued him more than any of the girls wearing the same thing. Way more than he would like to admit. 

—

“George! You’re late you muffin head!” Bad chimed out as George rounded the bar.

“Yeah yeah, I know! Could you punch me in? I forgot something upstairs.” George pleaded quickly to his friend and coworker as he pushed through the employee entrance. 

“You know I can’t do that!” Bad shouted in return. George was already on the other side of the door, but he turned and popped his head out to give Bad big eyes and a small pout. Bad huffed, giving him a look that said ‘ _really?’._

George held the face, blinking slowly. He knew Bad was a softie and could easily be cracked with such playful innocence. And when George could see Bad teetering on the edge, resisting with all his strength, George pulled his bottom lip further, exaggerating the pout. Followed by a “pwetty pwease” that had Bad flinging his arms in the air with an exasperated “Fine! Now go!” 

George broke the act and cracked a wide grin. He shouted a ‘thank you’ as he pulled his head out of the doorway, hearing Bad mutter a ‘you owe me one’ right before the door could close.

He chuckled as he bounded up the stairs to his apartment that was situated a floor above the club. 

His apartment was small but cozy, just enough space for himself and his furry little friend that greeted him with a soft ‘mew’. He bent down to pet her and cooed when she rubbed against his leg. Her green eyes peered up at him, reminding him of the green eyes he saw in the doorway of the club.

It’s not like he had forgotten, in fact, it was just the opposite, his little act with Bad was just a distraction. His mind replayed the event and he blushed furiously, feeling the heat of the attractive stranger that stood so close and just _stared_. 

George squirmed, bringing his hands up to run them over his arms, wishing, imagining, that he’d be looked at like that _again_. By _him._

The gentle meow of his light grey kitten pulled George out of his fantasy. He pulled himself away from his apartment door that he didn’t even realize he had been leaning on and the study thump of the music below his apartment reminded him that he was originally here to grab something instead of standing here to idiotically daydream about a stranger. 

In one quick motion, George snatched the patch that read _‘404’_ from his kitchen island and dashed out of his apartment to start what he knew was going to be a long night of dancing with the wrong people. 

Bad was leaning on his elbows crouched over the bar when George bolted through the employee door, nearly crashing into someone on the other side for the second time that night. The noise startled Bad out of whatever trance he was in and earned George a light shove from Bad. 

“You really gotta get out of the habit of barreling through doors like that, George.” Bad scolded him half-joking, half-serious.

“You gotta stop making it a habit of staring at that DJ on slow nights.” 

“WHAT!? I wasn’t staring!” The small rise in color blooming on Bad’s cheeks told George otherwise. “I was just… watching him do whatever DJs do, y’know…” his words trailed off, eyes half-lidded and wandering. 

George just smiled and laughed earning himself another not-so-light shove while Bad grumbled. 

“Hey! You can’t clown me with the performance you had earlier. What was _that_ all about?” Bad retorted, making George immediately stop laughing and face fall flat. Of _course_ Bad saw. 

“Nothing.” It was George’s turn to blush. “Been a slow night?” He tried to change the subject. 

Bad hummed. “Yeah, it’s been pretty slow.” He paused “He’s been the most interesting thing to happen so far.” George’s feeble attempt failed and the words that followed fell out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“What was his name?” Shit.

“AH HA! It totally wasn’t _nothing.”_ Bad mocked while throwing up air quotes with a smug smile.

“You’re the worst.” 

“You love me,” Bad said sing-song

“I do not.” George retorted.

Bad gave an ‘awe’ in feigned disappointment and silence fell between them, the club’s music filling the space. George finally pinned his patch to his top, deciding that he had delayed the inevitable long enough. He made it around the bar and towards the dance floor before Bad’s voice stopped him. 

“I didn’t catch his name, but this might be able to help you.” 

George watched Bad pull out a card and toss it across the bar. He caught it clumsily and pinched it between his fingers scanning the decorated face in disbelief. A pair of familiar green eyes stared back at him, along with more information than he needed to know about a stranger. 

“He must have dropped it and was too distracted by a certain _someone_ to notice.” Bad teased. 

_Clay_

George let the name linger on his tongue and resisted the urge to let it slip through his lips. He tossed the I.D. back to Bad and walked into the crowd on the dancefloor without another word, hoping, wishing, that he’d see him - _Clay -_ again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream suffers through some shameful thoughts and realization that his I.D is nowhere to be found. He has an idea of where its at but tries to deny it completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After receiving more support than I thought I ever would for my silly little one shot, I've decided to continue. At this point, I still don't have many plans for this fic despite having the majority of the story laid out in my head. Either way, hope you enjoy <3

Piercing afternoon sun shone a sliver of painful light directly into Dream’s eyes through a betraying crack in his bedroom curtains. He blinked, the light catching his tired achy eyes, and winced as pain shot up through his head. His hands came up to his face to block out the sun and he turned, groaning as every movement made the pain in his temples worse. 

When he blinked away the blurry stickiness, he focused on the small red LED numbers on his alarm clock sitting on his bedside table. 14:04. 

He was being mocked by his own alarm clock. The last thing he needed first thing in the morning was a reminder of the place that sent him into a downhill train of thought about a stranger. 

The digits clicked over from a 4 to a 5 and Dream desperately wanted to throw the mocking inanimate object across the room but his headache shot down his impulsivity with a dart of pain. With more groaning, he ran his hands down his face and slowly, carefully, dragged himself to the edge of his bed. Sitting there, one hand still on his face and the other steadying him against the unkempt sheets, he eyes more evidence of mockery sitting on his floor - soiled tissues littering the floor. 

They were tossed without care towards the bin last night after Dream couldn’t keep the image of pale skin being revealed as a red skirt was hiked up with his own hands, sinfully slow, making that slim body - so small, so sweet - squirm in anticipation and - 

Dream kicked the tissues with bare toes out of frustration, trying to keep himself from thinking through his shameful fantasy. _Again_. 

He stepped into a pair of light grey sweatpants, lazily pulling them up to rest gently on his hips and slipping a plain t-shirt over his tousled hair and tanned chest. His hand snaking underneath his shirt to scratch a spot and yawning into the other as he shambled through his bedroom door and out into the dimly lit hallway. 

A loud crackle of plastic attacked his ears - and headache - when his foot heavily fell on an incriminating red solo cup littered in the hall. Dream audibly cursed, memories of the night before flashing in his mind. 

He had come home from 404 to Sapnap greeting him loud and warmly from the living area. His smile beamed brightly to a weary Dream still holding the door open. The warm presence that was Sap in his home after a cold and lonely jog was definitely a welcomed surprise. 

Sap had a key to his home. Dream made a copy for him after Sap was left in the cold snow late into the night locked out of his dorm. 

“Whenever you need a place to be. My home is your home.” He could hear himself say to a sniffling, teary-eyed, red-nosed Sapnap who looked as though he had been abandoned on a porch step. It was intimate and budded the close friendship they have today. 

Karl’s playful voice pulled Dream inside. “Welcome home, dude! Plenty left to drink.” A chorus of delightful giggles filled the air as he passed, one arm raised in a toast. 

“The party was lame so we dipped and came here, just the three of us. Better that way anyway. Hope you weren’t planning on havin' a quiet night!” Sapnap wrapped his arm around Dream’s shoulders, causing him to balance both of their weights as he clumsily slipped off his shoes. The sharp dripping smell of alcohol that emitted from Sap’s breath told him that he was definitely in deep already. 

Dream couldn’t help but to smile and feel the warmth envelop him. “Nah, I’m ready to party if y’all still got much party left in ya.” Dream teased playfully and a roar of laughter emitted from both of them. It was contagious as Quackity and Karl joined in when the laughing duo traveled into the living room. 

The four of them piled together on the plush couches at the center of Dream’s living room. They shared drinks and laughed about the shit party that they ditched. Dream listened but didn’t absorb the details, just laughed along, letting himself loose. He was full of empty calorie snacks and booze when they booted up party games, a flickering screen of friendly competitiveness illuminated everyone’s face in the dark night light. But something kept Dream from being fully present that anybody was too inebriated to pick up on. 

The thoughts of 404 and this new stranger lingered at the back of Dream’s head, and he hoped that at one cup of jungle juice he would forget. After the second he was sure that the brief images of blue eyes would stop interfering with his thoughts. When into the first round of beer pong, surely he wouldn’t be thinking of the searing embarrassment of his public outburst. And at the fourth round, he gave up trying to forget the loneliness pricking his heart. 

Despite having regretful amounts of liquid poison in his veins and the cheerful, energetic, light-hearted chatter of his best mates, his mind couldn’t stop lingering on running his hands along pale skin. It was then when he dipped out of the living room and sunk into lustful heat until he blacked out in a tangle of sheets. 

A loud, quick snort emitting from the living room brought Dream back to the present. Sap and Karl were cuddled up haphazardly across the large couch, surrounded by last night’s mess of cups, spilled liquid, and wrappers that made Dream’s nose curl. A small scan as he passed the living room into the open kitchen and Quackity was nowhere to be seen.

As Dream yawned for the countless time and stepped around the small island, his toe caught something strewn across the tiled floor, throwing him hands first into the counter. He cursed loudly, looking down at the offending object to see a sleeping Quackity drooling into a pillow. 

_That’s not going to treat him well when he wakes up._ Dream thought to himself wondering just what happened after he left for his room. 

Upon second thought, he didn’t really want to know. 

Instead, the morning irritation just grew further as he continued to stare at his house left in a mess. The party, at first, was a warm happiness that Dream couldn’t truly complain about experiencing, but the leftovers of four drunk college boys made it excruciatingly hard to _not regret._

Dream popped waffles into his four-slotted toaster, tip-toe navigating over Quackity to reach for some ibuprofen in a tall cabinet and fill a glass of water. He downed the pills and gulped the water, hoping to satiate his pounding head. 

While waiting for the toaster to pop out his late brunch, crunched plastic cups and crinkled wrappers made their way into the nearby trash can without a care of noise, intending on rousing the other three awake. Cans and a few glass bottles made loud _CLANKs_ and _THUDs_ against the bottom of the stainless steel trash can followed by a noisy _SHUNK_ of all four waffles popping up loudly from the toaster. 

Dream was plopping them onto a plate, shaking the heat from his fingers in between each pastry when he heard the first, knowing painful groan emit from Sap, rising regretfully from the couch. 

Seconds later and a complaint sprung into the air. “Dude, could you be anymore - _fuck_ \- quiet?” Sapnap’s hair was sticking up in all directions as he squinted into the kitchen at Dream with a dreadful look. 

“Yeah man, my head’s pounding Jesus fucking christ.” Quackity groaned from the floor, his voice muffled by the arm over his head. 

Dream closed a cabinet left open from the night before with enough force to make himself and the others all visibly wince. 

“Dude!” Sapnap barked. 

Karl smacked him against the arm, seething, “That isn’t helping.” 

Was Dream being mildly childish? A bit. But he didn’t care. He was bound in swirling irritation that left his face twisted in a sneer. 

The air grew thick and tense, nothing but quiet shuffling of hungover bodies stumbling about filling the air. All three of them ended up clumsily bumping into each other in a slow groggy mess of grasping for water and pills.

Dream left his plate covered in sticky maple in the sink, sternly proposing that they all help clean up. He threw a trash bag in their general direction. It slapped Sap in the face before being swiped away with his hand. 

Each of them protested.

“We just got up, give us a minute?” Sap started, tone laced with annoyance for being slapped by a trash bag. 

Karl was leaning against Sap with his head in his palm, “Seriously, I really need a minute before I can move around like that.” 

“What’s the rush? We’ve got all day.” Quackity said lazily, motioning with his wrist. 

The heat of irritation grew into a flame that fueled Dream to snap. “IT IS. _TWO FOURTY SIX_.” Each word came out more emphasized than the last and his voice was a loud shrill, a few octaves above his usual level. The three of them winced again and Sap was going to open his mouth in another protest until Dream shot him a _look._

Sapnap knew from that look alone that Dream was on the edge, passed his usual chill and patient self, and caused him to shut his mouth. He turned to Karl, tugging at his sleeve. “C’mon, let’s just get started.” 

Dream heard Karl and Quackity whine and complain in unison as his feet heavily carried him into his room. He forcefully closed the door behind him, sliding down it when on the other side. He sighed into the air, letting his head fall gently on dark stained wood. Embarrassment blooming on his cheeks when he realized he threw a fit. Like a child.

He was usually patient, especially with Sapnap, but the mixture of Karl and Quackity, his mocking alarm clock, and the mess continued to shorten his fuse until he couldn’t hold it back anymore. Guilt squeezed his gut and he took a deep breath. He didn’t mean to make the air so tense after such a fun night for them, but it was already done. 

He sat there, letting himself simmer. 

From the living room, Sap waved to Karl and Quackity who were supporting each other out the front door. When he saw how dysfunctional they were - even after attempting to alleviate their hangovers - he resolved in letting them go for the day. 

Even sober, those two weren’t much help in the cleaning department. Their tiny cluttered dorm room was evidence of that.

Sapnap had cleared the living room table when he started to worry about Dream, still stowed away in his room. His face scrunched and suddenly - 

“ _FUCK!”_ The sound of anger and panic ripped through the house, startling Sapnap enough for him to drop the trash bag he was holding. He immediately hopped over the table, scrambling for Dream’s room in a panic - he had no idea what to expect but all he knew is that Dream wouldn’t curse at the top of his lungs for no reason. 

Right as Sapnap came to a halt in front of Dream’s door, he was met with a woosh of air from Dream opening the door with force. He blinked, speechless, suddenly being met by a very disheveled Dream and a loud rush of words “Have you seen my I.D.?!” 

Sap could barely process Dream’s words, let alone form a response, before he was being pushed aside by Dream frantically making his way across the house. 

Dream was twisting his head back and forth like a bird on high alert, his feet moving quickly while his hands opened every drawer, lifted every object, and checked every crevice he could. He was breathless when he turned to Sap, still standing baffled in the hallway, and barked “Are you just going to stand there?!” 

Sap’s feet and mind finally caught up to Dream’s frantic state, carrying him over to his friend who was elbow deep in between the couch cushions. He placed a firm hand on Dream’s shoulder. “Please, Dream. Slow down.” 

The carefully stern tone, full of care and worry, grounded Dream. He stopped in his tracks and pulled his arm out of the couch, letting his head fall with an exhale in defeat. 

Dream’s actions could have, and maybe should have made Sapnap lose his own cool, but his patience seemed to be endless. In reality, he had never seen Dream act this way, coupled with the way he was daydreaming last night, Sap had been worried all night. Dream being short with the three of them was excusable by a hangover - anyone would be - and perfectly normal. 

Dream storming off to his room after an outburst - not normal. 

Sapnap squeezed his friend’s shoulder. Dream leaned into the touch and rotated his body to sit normally with Sap on the couch. They sat in a calming silence for a moment.

“Sorry. I-” Dream began, putting a hand on his face. “I’ve been pretty shitty haven’t I?”

Sap snorted “I’d say.” He gave Dream a light punch to the arm.

Dream returned it and they gave each other a small smile. 

Another short silence fell away as they released the unnecessary tension and simmering anger into bubbling laughter. The sound reminds them of late nights watching bootleg movies and fingers covered in butter and salt. 

“Where’d the other two go anyway?”

“I told them to go home. They were gonna be useless.” Sapnap waved dismissively, eliciting a chuckle from Dream. “So, why are you so upset over your I.D?”

Dream thinks back to fishing his headphones out of his discarded shorts, realizing that something wasn’t quite right. He had flicked through his wallet, emptying its contents onto the floor verifying that his I.D., was in fact,missing. He had just calmed down but the missing item sent him back over the edge. 

He was running his hands over his scalp and pulling at the base of his hair trying to piece together where he could’ve misplaced it - maybe the boys were pulling a prank and hid it somewhere in the house, or maybe it slipped out of his pocket on his jog, or maybe -

And then it hit him. His eyes darted up to his laptop still sitting in the same spot before he left for his jog the night before. The screen was black, but he knew if he had wiggled his mouse to bring it back to life, Google Maps would be staring back at him, showing the answer to the location of his identification card. 

No. He didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to believe that there would be any excuse for him to have to go back to that place and potentially face _him._

But didn’t he want to see him again?

That’s when Dream’s ripping curse rang throughout the house and alerted Sap to his room. 

“I’m not.” Dream sighed, looking at Sap’s quirked eyebrow. “Not mad about the I.D.” He clarified.

“Then what the hell was that-” Sap gestured frantically “-all about?”

Dream laughed and leaned his head back against the cushions. He paused, knowing if he told Sap that he went to 404, that he’d be teased endlessly and forced to tell him everything that happened, and he really didn’t want to do that. He could lie - say he was just panicked and blame it on the booze - but Sap would know immediately. He didn’t want to lie either. 

Sap waited patiently in the silence, picking a couple pieces of trash off the floor and discarding them. 

“I went to 404.” Dream finally confessed.

Sap paused in his movement. Dream held his breath.

“And?” Sap looked at Dream, a sly smile curving his lips. “You’ll have to tell me how it went, but what does that have to do with -” 

“I dropped it there,” He interrupted, looking away “at least I’m pretty sure I did.”

Sap opened his mouth, about to ask why that would make Dream so panicked, but Dream cut him off. 

Dream sighed before recounting what happened at 404 and purposefully leaving out any details about the stranger.

“So, you’re just embarrassed and don’t want to go back?” Sap questioned, suspicious that Dream left out details. 

“Yeah.” Dream agreed flatly. “Will you go for me?” 

It was dumb but Dream wanted to try.

Sap blinked. “What? No. Dream, seriously. Just give them a call it’ll be fine. You know that they wouldn’t give me _your_ I.D.” 

Dream sighed again, slipping his phone out of his pocket and begrudgingly dialing up 404. As the phone rang in his ear, he silently hoped that, one, his I.D was left on the sidewalk from his jog and, two, that the stranger wouldn’t be the one to -

“Hello?” A familiar and soft voice traveled through the speaker and Dream’s heart jumped to his throat. Maybe it wasn’t him, maybe it was just someone who sounded familiar who happened to _also_ have a british accent -

“Hello..?” 

It was definitely him.

Dream swallowed the lump of shame in his throat and croaked out a ‘hi’. Sap eyed him suspiciously from the other side of the room where he had gotten up to continue cleaning. 

“Hi. How can I help you?” The soft voice echoed through his ears, sucking the moisture out of Dream’s mouth. 

“Uh,” All he had to do was ask for his I.D. “how are you?” His palm clapped against his forehead

_What the literal fuck, Dream._

“I, uh, I’m fine but,” Dream could hear him smiling “did you mean to call Club 404 for small talk?” 

He couldn’t believe he was being _teased_ over the phone. “No -” A giggle came from the other end causing the rest of his words to stumble out “I think I might’ve dropped my I.D. card last night. Did anyone hand one in?” 

“As a matter of fact, someone did.” A pause “Would you like for us to mail it or would you like to come pick it up... _Clay_?” 

The sound of his name, said so soft and airy - like as though it came out with hesitation, like as though it was being _tested_ \- made Dream float from the couch and flush red to his ears. His free hand curled into a fist, the heel of his palms digging into the couch as he let the sound replay in his mind. 

The sound beckoned him and Dream couldn’t resist. 

“I’ll swing by today, does anytime work?” He barely heard the words leave his mouth.

“Yup. We’ll hold onto it at the bar.” The words were laced with anticipation. “We’ll see you soon, Clay.” A click, and the call ended. 

That time, the sound of his name was more matter-of-fact, like as though he had said it numerous times before. And Dream wanted to hear it again and again. He wondered how it would sound if he were frustrated, or first thing in the morning, or after a fit of laughter, or when he’s breathless, pinned to bed with his wrists above his head -

_Fuck_. 

Dream opened his eyes, not sure of when he had closed them in the first place, focusing on Sapnap who was standing behind the kitchen island. Even upside down from having his head hang over the back of the couch, hand still holding his silent phone up to his ear, he could see the smug smile crossing Sapnap’s face. 

Explaining himself was going to be torturous. 

\--

The receiver emitted a soft ‘click’ as George gingerly sat the phone back in place. His face was warm and his eyes were squinted shut from the wide close-lipped smile spreading into his cheeks. 

George normally didn’t answer the phone, but he was glad he did today. It wasn’t by choice, actually, he was forced to because Bad - the one who would normally answer the bar phone - was too entranced by watching the DJ setup and test his mixes. 

He definitely couldn’t complain after getting to hear Clay’s voice directly in his ear, all flustered and shy. George had teased him and was pleased - a proud and satisfying flutter in his gut - that it made Clay stumble even further. 

George wanted more, wanted to see just _how_ flustered he could make Clay, see how far he could push him. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to try and suppress the giddy smile still laced across his face, lest Bad stops being distracted and comes over just to tease him. 

He pocketed the I.D into his loose hoodie and let himself lean against the bar, eyes settling on the door, waiting for it to open and for Clay to appear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if you're reading this, thank you so much for making it this far. 
> 
> Please leave kudos if you've enjoyed and considering commenting if you'd like for me to continue <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it to the end, thank you! I didn't expect this to be so long, but I ended up enjoying it more than I thought. Any feedback is welcomed, as I'm not very confident in my writing.
> 
> If you leave a comment, you're amazing and I love you (platonically ofc). unless? 😳 /j 
> 
> Thank you again for making it this far!


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